


Housewarming

by Berty



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Blow Job, First Time, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berty/pseuds/Berty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's noticing. Daniel's noticing Jack noticing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Housewarming

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pepesplace inappropriate blow job challenge.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He's standing close. I turn my head to find a pair of blue eyes staring at me thoughtfully from behind glasses. His stance says he's agitated about something. He's still got a colour to his cheeks from dancing with Janet earlier. I can smell the red wine on his breath and a trace of his cologne, and I have to work hard to keep my voice and breathing even.

I take a sip from my beer bottle. "Sure. What's up?"

I'm the king of deception. Years of practice. Nonchalance, thy name is O'Neill.

"Not here," he replies with a small, nervous smile, his eyes glancing around the room almost casually.

He tips his head in invitation, then leads the way out of the living room and through the hall. He stops at a door, checks the coast is clear, then steps inside.

It's pretty dark in here when he closes the door behind us, and the noise of the party becomes a low, friendly murmur of music, voices, laughter and glassware.

He's standing too close again, and I ease away from him back toward the door. "Daniel?"

"Jack?"

I wait for a second, to see if he's going to come to the point without being prompted, but no such luck. "Can I assume there's a reason we're in Carter's bedroom?"

He turns and looks, and seems surprised at the big bed, strewn with coats.

"Uh, yes," he says, turning back to face me.

Again I give him the opportunity to fill me in, but again, he doesn't take it; just looks at me as if _I_ asked _him_ in here, and I'm the one with all the answers. It's a little unnerving.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What's so important that you have to bring me in here to talk about it?"

He licks his lips and crosses his arms over his chest. "I noticed something. Earlier. Something about you."

I raise my eyebrows and lift my chin, inviting him to continue.

"I noticed you... noticing."

I wince, as if he's hurting my head, hoping to distract him from what I'm terrified he's about to say, but it doesn't work.

He looks determined but wary. "Noticing me," he clarifies, watching me closely.

Fuck.

"How do you mean?" I drawl in my most bored tone - the one I save for him, the one I use to camouflage my pathetic interest in him, the one that makes him pissy. I lift the bottle to my lips again and drain it, keeping eye contact all the time, can't let him see that I'm flustered.

Having a coronary.

Whichever.

His eyes narrow and I slouch back against the door to wait him out.

He gazes at me for a few seconds in the weird reflected glow of the party lights outside, and I watch in fascinated horror as a small, knowing smile curls one side of his lips. He looks so confident and predatory, it's a shock. It's so different from his usual cluelessness about anything remotely sexual, and my dick gives an appreciative twitch.

"You were watching me," he murmurs, taking a step closer.

"You were dancing. I feared lives would be lost."

"You're a liar, Jack. You were watching me and you were... enjoying it." He takes another step and pulls off his glasses.

Fuck! Who is this guy? What has he done with my oblivious academic team member? And could he take me home tonight?

"You watch me a lot, Jack," Daniel continues softly, resting a hand beside my shoulder and leaning in. "All the time."

I can barely breathe, because every mouthful is filled with him, his scent, his heat, his hungry eyes. I shake my head slightly, all pretense at disinterest blown away.

"Liar," he says and his hand lands firmly against my groin, cupping me through my jeans.

My head thuds back against the door and I rise up onto my toes in surprise.

"Sh!" He smiles slowly and begins to rub the heel of his hand up and down my aching dick.

I'm so hard I'm incoherent. Daniel in control is a kink I hadn't even imagined I had, but damn - it's a good one. I've imagined having to teach him, I've imagined having to take him slowly, and I've imagined him writhing sweetly beneath me. But I've never thought of him being the one to take the initiative. Stupid of me - I realise that now, because this? This is the hottest thing I've ever known.

He crashes his lips against mine, taking my mouth in a hard, searing kiss. His hand is a conductor, hard-wiring my brain to my cock, making me to push into each stroke, making me moan around his tongue, making me insane with want. So close. So unbearably close.

And, because this is the same annoying little prick I work with after all, he pulls back, licking his lips and grinning at me.

I ease my hips forward into his palm, trying to make him begin that perfect friction again.

He tips his head and raises his eyebrows, then his long, clever fingers pop the button on my jeans and start to lower the zipper, tooth by fucking tooth. By the time his hand snakes inside my shorts, I'm gasping for air and pleading with him to get a move on.

He looks down as he pulls out my cock, curling his fingers around me greedily and possessively. I look down too, unable to resist the sight of my dick in his palm. There's a smear of pre-come on his wrist that glistens in the low light.

When he looks back up to me, his eyes are dark and the grin is gone. Slowly he releases me and my heart lurches. He lifts his hand to his mouth and touches his tongue to the spot on his wrist where the head of my cock caught him.

I've never had a problem with my control before, but fuck if I don't almost come right there. And he sees it.

He drops to his knees, his eyes still on my face and waits.

"Daniel," I whisper.

"Sh!" he says again. He leans in and breathes against my balls, his lips barely there on my skin.

I'm going insane, trying to hold still, trying to be patient and let him set the pace. It's so hard I could almost weep with it.

He pulls my jeans and shorts down my thighs, trapping me, and then moves a little closer, shuffling on his knees. He lifts his sweet mouth.

"Feed me," he murmurs.

My bottle thumps to the floor and I'm shaking so hard, I can hardly find my dick to aim it. He opens his mouth obediently when I put a hand in his hair, then I slip my cock between his lips, feeding it to him like he asked, a little at a time until he's got as much of me as he can take.

The sensation is extraordinary. Daniel's mouth is hot and wet as he sucks and swallows around me. His lips are shiny and swollen and sinful stretched around my cock. My thighs are trembling with the effort it takes to not just grab his head and fuck his mouth.

I rock into his rhythm, trying to stay gentle, but he slides his hands around behind me and palms my ass, pressing me deeper, encouraging me to take, to use his mouth. His eyes flutter closed when I finally can't help myself, and push further into him. And I'm done.

I bite my fist as I pour down Daniel's throat, cursing and whimpering against my hand as he sucks me dry, his tongue careful now, sensitive and caressing.

While I concentrate on staying upright, Daniel tucks me back in, zips my jeans gently and leaves me with just the button to do. He stands up, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and kisses me again. Soft this time, his kisses are giving and inviting. I chase his tongue into his mouth and taste myself on his lips. It's quite a heady feeling to taste yourself on someone else, mingled with wine and their own unique flavour.

Daniel steps back, looks at me critically and runs a hand through my hair.

"You better stay here for a minute. You _look_ like you've been blown," he says with a smug smile.

Belatedly remembering my manners, I raise a hand toward his groin, but he catches it and strokes my fingers.

"I can wait," he says with a slightly challenging look on his face.

He kisses me once more, slides me along the wall and puts his hand on the doorknob.

"Jack, _don't_ notice... unless you're prepared to accept the consequences," he says quietly, then he slips out into the hall - the noise of the party suddenly loud and then soft again as he closes the door behind him.

Fin.


End file.
